The Unsung Art.


December, 28th.

My house has been burnt. The flames painted the skies,

And its sound was like a demon laughing.

Time stopped, the seconds died.

All turned to silence…

My life was divided into two.

My soul… living a Hell.

Every word spoken… a razor cutting the deepest of me.

My children were in the house.

In desperation, I went inside… Rushing through the fire…

Hearing the echoes of the yelling…

What happened? Why we have lived this?

Hidden, forgotten, darkness, pain.

My wife… was right. I shouldn’t have continued with this.

This is my curse, my chains.

My children… faded away in ashes.

“You are the greatest painter, dad”, is all I can hear in my mind.

I can’t deal with this…

After the storm, all is black now.

We cannot return to the past.

We cannot feel the light anymore.

The void is nigh, the smiles are lost.

My painting in the luxurious wall…

And my family torn apart.

-Written by Alejandro Viloria. Tuesday, 09/27/2016.


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